


Have Yourself a Shitty Little Christmas

by justtheonce



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Aubrey's flight is cancelled, Beca tries to save the day, Chloe is out of town, Christmas, F/F, Mitchsen - Freeform, airport, feelings happen and everyone handles it badly, of course it ends happily i'm not a monster, snowstorm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 21:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9026812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justtheonce/pseuds/justtheonce
Summary: Aubrey's stuck at the airport on Christmas Eve. Beca braves a freak snowstorm to pick her up. Nothing goes to plan.





	

**Author's Note:**

> OK this thing I did instead of working on either of my WIPs started out with a prompt I saw on tumblr -- “i know we hate each other but it’s christmas eve and your flight was cancelled please come inside” -- but it kinda went sideways.  
> Anyway, I didn’t edit this shit at all because I wanted to post it tonight. I realize this is a stupid reason, but here we are. Do holler out the mistakes, will you? I’ll go back and fix things.

Aubrey called her best friend. Not for rescue -- Chloe was in Florida with her family. It was Christmas Eve, after all, and as most people who actually enjoyed spending time with their families were wont to do, Chloe had flown home the day after the semester ended. There was nothing Chloe could do to help her, but Aubrey was stuck at the airport and fresh off of hearing the businesslike and decidedly not sad way her father had taken the news that her flight was cancelled and she wouldn’t make it home for Christmas after all, so she’d parked herself at the bar nearest her gate where she’d ordered a Bloody Mary and dialled the one person she knew would answer the phone and offer sympathy.

“It’s not as if I even  _ wanted  _ to go,” Aubrey said. “I might be relieved if I weren’t stuck here. They’re so sure that no flights are leaving that they gave everyone their checked luggage back, so I’m sitting at this bar with my feet up on my suitcase. It’s a bit ridiculous.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Chloe said. “I wish I was still there so I could come get you.”

“Thank you, but I wouldn’t want you driving in this mess, anyway,” Aubrey replied. “That exciting, light dusting of snow we were meant to get just in time for Christmas turned into a freak snowstorm, and Georgia has no idea how to handle actual snow.”

“How much snow are we talking?” Chloe asked.

“Well, it started snowing while I was in the cab to the airport, and the roads were a mess by the time I got here. By now I think it’s--” Aubrey paused to squint at the weather report playing on the TV behind the bar. “It’s dumped three inches in the past three hours.”

“Jesus,” Chloe said.

“Yeah. Even if I could get a cab, I don’t even want to think about how long it would take to get back home from here.”

“It’s too bad my Jeep can’t drive itself to come get you.”

“That would really be something,” Aubrey said with a smile. 

“Hey, can I call you back in a few minutes? I totally want to spend the whole day keeping you amused while you’re trapped in the airport with cranky travellers, but I gotta help my mom real quick.”

“Of course, Chloe,” Aubrey said. “Go enjoy the holiday with your family, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine at least until the bars run out of overpriced alcohol.”

“Please tell me you’re putting it on your dad’s credit card.”

“Of course I am.”

“Good girl,” Chloe said. “Eat something, though. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Aubrey set down her phone, sighed, and took stock of her situation. She was snowbound in an airport on Christmas Eve, surrounded by people upset about ruined holiday plans, drinking alone at 10 AM. It was probably still better than the stiflingly formal (with an undercurrent of judgement) atmosphere of her parents’ house.

She ordered a BLT and another Bloody Mary, pulled her Kindle out of her carry on, and settled in.

* * *

“You want me to what?” Beca asked.

“I mean only if you feel safe driving in the snow, my Jeep has four wheel drive but--”

“I am from Maine,” Beca said slowly. “I literally had my first driving lesson in a snow filled parking lot. That’s not the part I’m questioning.”

“Would you really leave Aubrey stuck at the airport,  _ alone _ , on Christmas Eve?” Chloe asked.

“Ugh, no, that’s not what I meant. Just, like, that I’m the last person on Earth she’d be happy to see coming to her rescue.”

“She’s drinking before noon at a shitty airport bar, Beca. She’d probably at least fake a smile if Bumper came to get her.”

“Did you ask him?”

“ _ Beca _ .”

“OK, fine. I will take your Jeep and rescue your friend,” Beca relented. “And you will owe me large.”

“How large are we talking, here?”

“Is this a negotiation? Because I don’t think--”

“Nevermind, I owe you. Super big time. Just please go get her,” Chloe said. 

* * *

Beca stood behind a rack full of various neck pillows in front of a luggage shop and peered across the walkway at the back of Aubrey’s head, steeling herself to make her approach. Aubrey Posen could be difficult at the best of times, and Beca had a notion that a possibly drunk and irritated Aubrey Posen trapped in an airport was going to be a real pain in the ass. 

“Fuck it,” she finally said. An old lady passing by on her way into the shop gave her a sharp look, so she muttered a quick apology and got the hell out of there. She walked quickly across the concourse until she was standing just behind Aubrey, paused to take a steadying breath, and lurched forward to get it over with. “So,” she said, sidling up beside the blond, “here I am to save the day.”

Aubrey snapped her head around and stared with pursed lips and furrowed brows for a few seconds before asking, “Did you mean to lob that softball, or are you losing your touch?”

“Oh yeah, no, shit,” Beca replied. “Don’t you dare make a fucking Mighty Mouse joke after I drove all this way through a shitstorm of panicked drivers and incompetent snow removal workers to save your ass.”

“Save me?”

“Yeah, I borrowed Chloe’s Jeep.”

“She called you?”

“No, I'm fucking psychic, Aubrey,” Beca said flatly. “I was trying to keep it a secret but you've found me out.”

“Some psychic,” Aubrey scoffed, waving a hand toward the bar's TV. “They just declared a state of emergency. You made it all the way here but you can't leave.”

“Son of a bitch,” Beca whispered, eyes glued to the screen. “A thousand dollar fine for anyone caught on the roads?”

“Indeed,” Aubrey said. She was smiling, so Beca assumed she was at least half lit. “You are now also trapped in the airport of no return.”

“Fuck my life,” Beca said as she climbed onto the stool nearest Aubrey. “Try to do someone a favor and this is what I get.”

“Yeah, well, that's what being a sucker for Chloe Beale will get you sometimes.”

“I am not a sucker for Chloe,” Beca said.

Aubrey chuckled. “ _ Everyone _ is a sucker for Chloe.”

“Fair point. Let's just get drunk,” Beca suggested.

“Way ahead of you,” Aubrey said. She actually leaned over and bumped shoulders with Beca before waving down the bartender. “Dale, how about another for me and one for my friend? And make hers very strong, please, she has some catching up to do.”

“Sure thing,” Dale said, and he wiped down the bar in front of Beca before turning away to make the drinks.

“Why does it seem like he works for you?” Beca asked.

“I've been here a few hours. He knows I'm using daddy's credit card and that I plan on running up the tab and tipping  _ very  _ well.”

“Running up a tab? Sounds great. Do they have mozzarella sticks?”

* * *

“This is awesome,” Beca said, holding up a T-shirt emblazoned with a giant peach and the skyline of Atlanta.

“That is hideous,” Aubrey corrected her. She wrinkled her nose as if ugly had a smell and the shirt stank horribly. “It could only be made worse with the addition of that cheap glitter print that flakes off everywhere.”

“Exactly,” Beca said, grinning widely. “I’m getting it.”

“Why on Earth would you want that thing?”

“I just realized I don’t have Atlanta.”

“Either what you’re saying is nonsense or I’m more drunk than I thought,” Aubrey said, shaking her head.

“I always get an ugly tourist shirt from places I visit,” Beca explained as they joined the end of the checkout line. “Like some people collect shot glasses or postcards or whatever.”

“And you wear these? When?”

“I wear them to sleep,” Beca said. “You think I’d wear something like this in front of people?”

“You do make questionable fashion choices.”

“You’re just jealous because your fashion choices are limited by the need to accommodate the stick up your ass.”

“And to think I was about to buy that shirt for you,” Aubrey said. 

“You mean your dad was about to buy this shirt for me?” Beca countered.

Aubrey narrowed her eyes at the smirk on Beca’s face, but the little shit had a point, so she turned to the nearest rack and plucked out an ‘I Heart ATL’ shirt. “Do you want a shot glass, too? Maybe a keychain?”

“You really don’t like your dad, do you?”

Aubrey scoffed. “First of all, we can max out this card and paying it off all at once would only be a minor annoyance for him,” she said. “And second of all, it’s none of your business.”

“I don’t really like my dad, either,” Beca said, stepping out of line. “Let’s get more shit.”

Beca walked out of the gift shop wearing an Atlanta Braves backpack stuffed with Atlanta themed T-shirts, shot glasses, keychains, snow globes, playing cards, and a cutting board shaped like Georgia. She didn’t actually want any of it besides the T-shirt, but it was fun to buy stupid shit with someone else’s money.

It didn’t hurt that the whole thing seemed to bring Aubrey a fair amount of amusement and satisfaction, but that was something Beca would keep to herself.

“Let’s go ride the slidewalks,” Beca suggested.

“You mean the Automated People Movers?”

Beca sighed. “Posen, you suck the fun out things sometimes, you know that?”

“Only sometimes?”

* * *

“So you’re still stuck in the airport?” Chloe asked. “It’s been hours, Bree.”

“Yes, I have felt them pass at an agonizing rate,” Aubrey said, glad that Beca wasn’t there to see her wince at the sound of her own lie. The time was flying by. Aubrey was having a great time.

“And Beca is stuck there with you?”

“Yes.”

“Is she mad at me?”

“Um, good question,” Aubrey said. “I can ask her when she gets back?”

“Best not,” Chloe said. “I already feel bad. Where is she?”

“She’s scouting for an open charging station. Her phone is nearly dead. I’m sitting with our luggage until she calls.”

“Why does Beca have luggage?”

“We’ve been shopping,” Aubrey said simply. 

“Wow.” It was all Chloe could think of to say, really. She’d hoped her plan for Beca to rescue Aubrey would end, best case scenario, with the two of them eating take out and getting drunk on eggnog back at the Bella house while Christmas music played in the background, culminating in the two of them realizing they were more alike than different and finally becoming friends. She wasn’t sure if the idea of them day drinking their way through the airport was terrifying or awesome. “So you’re just, like, hanging out?”

“Yes.”

“And -- getting along?”

“Well, no one’s dead yet,” Aubrey said. “Although there was a drunk guy at the last bar who almost got a beer bottle to the face.”

Chloe chuckled and asked, “What did he do to make Beca want to hit him with a beer bottle?”

“Oh no, it was me,” Aubrey explained. “He literally asked her if she wanted to join the mile high club with him, which is not only gross but inaccurate because we are on the ground, and when she laughed and turned him down he asked for her number instead. He just wouldn't fuck off.”

“So you were -- defending Beca?”

“I told him that if he opened his mouth again I’d smash my bottle across his nose and jab him in the eye with the broken neck.”

“Holy shit, Bree.”

“And then I dragged her out of there before she could get herself detained by airport security, which I imagine would be worse than jail,” Beca said. The background noise had increased, and Chloe could hear Aubrey laughing. “By the way, you’re on speaker now.”

“Hi, Becs,” Chloe said. “Sorry I got you into this.”

“Well, I was just going to spend the day eating all the Christmas cookies and laying on the couch like a lump, anyway,” Beca said. “At least this way someone can keep an eye on drunk Posen. She is a fucking handful, let me tell you.”

“ _ You’re _ a drunk handful,” Aubrey said.

“I worry about you two,” Chloe said.

“Yeah, well, so do I,” Beca said. “My phone is dead and every charging station is occupied by either a pack of dudes in cheap suits or a set of haggard parents trying to keep their hyperactive little bastards in line. I hate everyone here.”

“Except me,” Aubrey said.

“Any port in a storm, Posen,” Beca said, sounding not at all unhappy.

“Ditto,” Aubrey replied in a tone Chloe could swear was affectionate.

“OK, well, you two try to behave,” Chloe said. “And conserve your battery, Bree. Keep me updated.”

“Sure thing, Chlo,” Aubrey promised.

The next update Chloe received was a Facebook notification that Aubrey had posted a picture of Beca leaning against a wall while wearing stilts and a big grin. The caption read,  _ ‘She’s excited to finally be tall, but she can’t walk in them. We’ve been rooted in this spot for fifteen minutes while she looks down on passersby.’ _

“Where the fuck did they get stilts?” she asked herself.

When the next Facebook update was a video of the pair of them on the People Mover demonstrating what the caption described as  _ ‘the slidewalk dance,’ _ Chloe laughed out loud. Then she made sure the notification volume was all the way up on her phone to make sure she’d hear when the next one pinged.

* * *

“So you could totally, like, live here,” Beca said.

“What? In the airport?” Aubrey asked.

“Yeah, I mean, there’s a ton of places to get food and a shitload of stores. Stores that sell  _ all  _ of the things,” Beca explained. “Also jobs. You could work here and eat here and never leave. I mean you’d have to sleep on, like, the chairs at a gate or something, but still.”

“Minute Suites,” Aubrey said.

“What?”

“They have these little rooms you can sleep in.”

“Wow,” Beca said. “Airports are fucking weird, dude.”

“Indeed.”

“So, my buzz is fading,” Beca said.

“Mine, too.” 

“I could stand a nap.”

“You could always stand a nap,” Aubrey said.

“Naps are awesome,” Beca said, “and I am awesome, so I like things that are awesome.”

“That’s debatable,” Aubrey countered, “but we should see if we can get a room. We’ll be able to charge our phones, and it’s stopped snowing so maybe we’ll be able to leave by the time we wake up.”

“Sweet, let’s go buy some shorts to sleep in.”

* * *

Beca was momentarily panicked upon entering the tiny room and finding nothing but a desk, a TV, and a couch, but she settled down when Aubrey unfolded the couch into a bed. Sleeping next to Aubrey was going to be weird, but it was better than fighting over who was sleeping on the floor.

Aubrey dug two sets of sleepwear out of her suitcase because she wouldn’t wear anything she hadn’t washed first and she was going to let Beca do it, either. 

“You have no idea how many people have touched that T-shirt, Beca,” she said. “Shut up and put it back in the bag.”

“Fine, but only because I’m too tired to argue,” Beca said. She did not add that Aubrey was right or that she was kind of anxiously pleased at the idea of sleeping in clothes that smelled like Aubrey.

They changed with their backs to each other and then Aubrey had a few seconds to enjoy the sight of her own clothes on Beca’s tiny frame before they slipped under the covers.

“Good night, Aubrey,” Beca said once the light was off.

“It’s four in the afternoon,” Aubrey said.

“Pedant.”

“Anarchist.”

Maybe they stayed awake a while longer, trading insults and laughing until their stomach muscles hurt. No one ever had to know.

* * *

Aubrey woke up on her right side and it took her half alert brain about three seconds to realize her arms were full of Beca. Her body went rigid, her eyes snapped wide, and her brain whirred itself all the way up to racing.

She ran through several plans for extricating herself stealthily before remembering that Beca slept like a dead thing and that all she really had to do was roll away and then work on reminding her body how to breathe. She’d once watched Fat Amy lob objects of increasing size at Beca while she slept on the couch, and in the end it had taken a basketball to rouse her. So Aubrey could do this, certainly. She’d just turn her body and slide her arm out and then she’d be free, and Beca would remain asleep and she’d never know she’d been practically assaulted during a nap in an airport by --

Beca shifted a bit, pressing herself more firmly against Aubrey’s body, and closed a hand around Aubrey’s wrist. Aubrey had no idea how long she’d been holding her breath, but she suspected her death was imminent, so she took a slow breath and tried to stay perfectly still. 

“Relax dude,” Beca said quietly, and Aubrey stopped breathing again. “This is awkward enough without you having a panic attack.”

“You’re -- awake,” Aubrey said.

“Yep.”

“And you’re -- not freaking out?” Aubrey asked. She found the fact that Beca couldn’t see her face to be very helpful. She resumed breathing.

“I’m freaking out a little bit,” Beca said honestly. “You don’t have to worry, though.”

“About what?”

“I won’t tell anyone. What happens in the Minute Suite stays in the Minute Suite,” Beca joked, but she didn’t sound at all amused. “I won’t embarrass you.”

“Embarrass me?”

Beca did chuckle at that. “Like you wouldn’t be mortified if anyone found out about this.”

“I--”

“It’s OK, I get it,” Beca said. Then she sighed and said, quite softly, “Can we just stay a few more minutes?”

“Of course,” Aubrey said, finally relaxing her body against Beca’s. She did not say ‘we can stay forever’ or ‘we should do this every day’ or ‘once I’ve brushed my teeth I’m going to kiss you.’

But she thought about it until she fell asleep again.

* * *

Beca bitterly regretted giving in to Chloe’s request to pick up Aubrey from the airport.

She hadn’t expected to find herself stuck there all day, alternating between drunk and half drunk, while she learned that there was more to Aubrey Posen than an incredibly pretty face and a deep seated need to prove herself.

She sure as hell hadn’t expected to find herself completely charmed and smitten by the third hour, but she had. It was all well and good, really, until the whole cuddling thing. Before that, it was just another stupid thing Beca had done that she could laugh at herself over. 

_ Catching feelings for a girl who’d never look at you twice? Of course you did. You’re an asshole.  _

Pre-nap, it was a thing she could have stuffed down underneath her snarky attitude. A thing she could have masked with her resting bitch face. A thing she could have hidden from everyone, especially Aubrey, until it went away.

Post-nap, though, it was a shitshow. Because Aubrey definitely had to know, and she hadn’t argued at all over the whole ‘I’d be humiliated if anyone heard about this’ conversation. She hadn’t exactly agreed, but she certainly hadn’t denied it, which had left Beca in a sort of grey limbo where she wasn’t sure what to think.

It had been Aubrey wrapped around her, after all; not the other way around.

Beca’s uncertainty was short lived, however, after they woke up the second time. She’d slipped out to the bathroom, and by the time she returned Aubrey was dressed and had the news on the wall mounted TV. She announced that the roads were open, excused herself to the bathroom, and acted just like nothing had ever happened.

Not just like the nap thing hadn’t happened. Like the  _ whole day  _ hadn’t happened.

They agreed to grab a bite to eat in the hopes that once they were finished, whatever traffic disaster was happening on the newly opened roads would have quieted down. It was a largely quiet, stilted meal, though. They didn’t bicker or joke. They barely talked at all.

Apparently, sober Aubrey still disliked sober Beca.

On the walk out to the parking lot shuttle, the bag of souvenirs on Beca’s back felt like molten hot lead. Part of her wanted to bury it in the nearest trash bin.

Part of her wanted to keep every single item forever, to remind her of the day when a girl sixteen miles out of her league laughed at her jokes and joined her in airport related shenanigans and held her as they slept.

In the shuttle, she faced the window and squeezed her eyes shut, because they were hot and prickly and  _ sweet holy fuck  _ she was an idiot. 

She hadn’t even noticed she’d gotten her hopes up, but at some point she must have, because her current level of disappointment was crushing her.

At least the Jeep’s stereo was there to fill the car with music on the ride home, because otherwise it would have been awkward and silent instead of just awkward. Beca comforted herself a little in the knowledge that Aubrey would be too embarrassed to tell anyone about any of it, and so no one would ever have to know how Beca had asked her to stay just a little longer.

What happens in the Minute Suite stays in the Minute Suite, after all.

* * *

“I’m so glad you made it home OK,” Chloe said. “Finally. Sorry my plan didn’t exactly work out.”

“It’s fine, Chloe,” Aubrey said. “Just another shitty little Christmas. Probably would have been worse at my parents’ house, what with all the judgment and disapproval thick in the air.”

“They love you, Bree,” Chloe said, but it sounded lame even to her. She wriggled around on her back until she could drap her legs over the back of the couch and let her head hang.

“I know, but -- they just show it in a really awful way.”

“Yeah. But hey, you and Beca can have, like, anti-Christmas together tomorrow.”

“She’s not going to her dad’s?” Aubrey asked.

“She might go in the evening for dinner, but she doesn’t want to,” Chloe said. “She didn’t tell you?”

“No,” Aubrey said. “I just assumed she’d go over there in the morning.”

“I don’t think she wants to see her dad any more than you do,” Chloe said. “He’s not as intense as yours, but he doesn’t approve of her choices, either. Thinks DJing is a hobby.”

“Idiot,” Aubrey breathed. “Why doesn’t she go to her mom’s?”

“Oh,” Chloe said, “her mom died, like, last year.”

“Oh that’s -- that’s awful. I had no idea.”

“Maybe don’t tell her I told you,” Chloe said. 

“Of course not.”

“So anyway, I followed all your antics on Facebook. Looks like you two had a lot of fun.”

“It -- we were drunk.”

“So it wasn’t fun?”

“I mean, I guess it was when we were drunk.”

Chloe rolled off the couch onto her knees and winced a bit as the blood rushed out of her head. “You’re being kind of evasive there, Bree. Did something happen?” Aubrey didn’t say anything. “Something  _ did  _ happen, didn’t it? Oh my god, you were getting along so well--”

“Take the dramatics down a notch. It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like? Was it a -- did you kiss her?”

“What?” Aubrey sputtered. “Why would you think--”

“You two look at each other a lot when you think no one else is looking, but I see you,” Chloe said smugly. “I see you, Bree.”

“You are ridiculous,” Aubrey said.

“So you didn’t kiss her?”

“Of course not.”

“I’m disappointed,” Chloe said. She slid back onto the couch and opened her laptop. “You guys look really happy in all these Facebook pics.”

“Oh god,” Aubrey said. “How many things did I post?”

“Eight,” Chloe said. “You should look them over. The last one is my favorite.”

“I have to go take all that down,” Aubrey said. She sounded a little panicked. “I’ll call you later.”

“Bree, don’t--”

“I can’t have that out there, Chlo. People will think--”

“Who cares what people think? What do  _ you  _ think, Bree?”

“I think -- I need to take all that down.”

“Fine,” Chloe said. “Call me later.” Then she hung up.

She’d already downloaded the pictures and the ‘slidewalk dance’ video, so she wasn’t too worried about that. She called Beca.

“Hey, Chlo,” Beca answered. She sounded tired.

“Beeeecs,” Chloe crooned. “Thanks for today.”

“It’s whatever,” Beca said.

“So what happened?”

“What, like, you want me to recount the whole day?”

“No, I mean, why is it that Bree’s Facebook is full of pics of you two having fun and yet she’s all evasive and weird when I ask her about it?”

“I don’t know,” Beca snapped. “Maybe go ask her.”

“I did.”

“Look I don’t know what her problem with me is, OK, I mean I’ve tried being nice or whatever,” Beca said. “And you know what? She seems to like my company when she’s drunk and I’m basically the last person on Earth, but in real life she thinks I’m a loser, OK, so--”

“Wow, so something  _ did  _ happen,” Chloe said. “Drunken make-out session?”

“You are delusional.”

“Oh, come on, Becs. You don’t think my best friend is make-out worthy?”

“You think your best friend would ever stoop that low? Not a chance.”

“Oh,” Chloe said softly. There it was. “So she -- turned you down?”

“Well, no, I mean I didn’t--”

“Tell me what the fuck happened, Beca,” Chloe said, raising her voice. “Because Bree is upset and you are upset and it’s making  _ me _ upset.”

“Goddamn it,” Beca said quietly. 

“I can help, Beca,” Chloe said kindly. 

Beca blew out a long breath, and Chloe waited. Just about the time she thought Beca wasn’t going to say anything, she did. “You cannot tell her you know this, Chlo. I promised not to tell anyone, and I’m only telling you so you understand why you should just back off, OK?”

“OK,” Chloe said.

“We got one of those little rooms to sleep, ‘cause were sobering up and we were tired. We took a nap.” Beca paused, and Chloe waited patiently. Well, she tapped her foot on the carpet and waved her free hand around, but Beca didn’t need to know that. “We woke up, like, cuddling. And then -- it was awkward and I promised I’d never embarrass her by telling anyone and now here I am fucking doing it anyway because I suck and--”

“And she acted like nothing ever happened,” Chloe supplied helpfully.

“Well yeah, of course she did.”

“Oh Becs,” Chloe said with a sigh. “That’s classic Aubrey.”

“Whatever, just--”

“You like her, right?” Chloe asked.

“I mean I don’t--”

“Beca, I’ve known Bree a long time and I know her better than anyone, so you listen to me, OK?”

“OK.”

“First of all, I’ve slept in the same bed with Bree loads of times, and she has never once cuddled me in her sleep,” Chloe said. “Second of all, she  _ sucks  _ at feelings. Totally sucks, I mean I adore her, but she’s an idiot. When she’s into someone, her first response is usually to stop talking to them.”

“That is -- really fucked up and oddly comforting,” Beca said.

“You’re gonna have to go to her, Becs.”

“I don’t have to do anything, Chlo. I definitely don’t have to be that shithead who pursues someone who isn’t interested and makes it all weird.”

“It’s already weird, Beca,” Chloe said. “How much worse can it get?”

“God, I hate you.”

“Because I’m always right?”

“I gotta go,” Beca said. Then she hung up.

Chloe looked at the phone in her hand and figured that hadn’t gone too terribly.

* * *

“You are Aubrey fucking Posen,” Aubrey whispered to her mirror. “You are not a coward. You can go talk to a girl.”

She’d been whispering that phrase, and other similar phrases, to herself for ten minutes and she still didn’t believe it. She heaved a sigh and started preparing herself to accept that she was actually a coward when there was a knock on her door.

“Who is it?” she asked.

“Literally the only other person who didn’t go somewhere else for Christmas, Posen, who the fuck do you think?”

“Come in, then, Beca,” Aubrey said, doing her best to cover herself in a thick layer of haughtiness as she reached for the door.

Beca looked very small when she opened it, standing in the hall in her socks with her hair in a bun and a snow globe in her hands. She thrust it out in front of herself like a shield and didn’t lift her eyes from it as she spoke.

“Can we, like, just pretend for a minute that this is a Minute Suite?” she asked.

“Um,” Aubrey said.

“Like, what I’m about to say -- it can stay here? Between us?”

“Sure,” Aubrey whispered. She took the snow globe when Beca shook it at her. It was the  _ really  _ ugly one that depicted not the Atlanta skyline, but Hartsfield-Jackson Airport itself. 

“You’re -- awesome,” Beca said quietly. 

Aubrey waited, but nothing else came, and she realized that was it. Beca was waiting for her to respond.

“Um,” she said.

Beca sighed. “Remember when I said naps are awesome,” she said, looking up briefly before gesturing at herself and looking down again, “and I’m awesome--”

“--and you like things that are awesome,” Aubrey finished.

“Yeah,” Beca said shyly.

“So you -- like me.”

“This is just as awkward as I imagined it would be,” Beca said.

“Come in,” Aubrey said, because she didn’t know how to say anything else, and she needed to put down the goddamn snow globe but she didn’t want to let Beca out of her sight.

Beca shuffled into the room, and Aubrey turned to place the globe on her dresser. When she turned back, Beca was standing in the middle of the room looking very lost.

“Look, I’m not good at--”

“I know,” Beca said to her feet. “Just -- just like, if there’s a chance, or if there isn’t, I mean I just -- I just wanna know. I’m asking.”

Aubrey still didn’t know what to say. Well, she could think of about a dozen things right off the top of her head, but when she opened her mouth, nothing came out except, “Really?”

Beca shrugged. “No, I’ve put myself completely at your mercy here for fun. This state of intense fear is fun for me, I enjoy it.” She set her jaw and raised her head to look Aubrey in the eye before saying, “Really, Aubrey, just put me out of my misery here.”

Aubrey nodded once, more to herself than anything, and stepped forward. She took a steadying breath and raised her right hand to brush her fingertips across Beca’s cheek. When Beca closed her eyes and leaned into her palm, Aubrey kissed her.

Beca did not recoil in surprise. She did not need a moment to gather her wits. 

She kissed Aubrey back immediately. She grabbed Aubrey’s hips and pulled her closer. She kissed Aubrey like she  _ meant  _ it, like she’d been waiting  _ years  _ for it.

So Aubrey kissed her deeply, and backed her toward her bed, and was glad they were the only two in the house so she didn’t have to stop to close the door.

* * *

Chloe fell asleep on the couch watching Christmas movies and woke up around one AM to the sound of her phone chiming on the coffee table. She had two new Facebook notifications:

_ Aubrey Posen is in a relationship with Beca Mitchell. _

_ Beca Mitchell is in a relationship with Aubrey Posen. _

Chloe squealed into the cushions for a minute before sending them a group text that read  _ ‘Good job getting your heads out of your asses! ;) :* I can’t wait to read the Bellas’ comments when they come rolling in tomorrow.’ _

_ ‘You no longer owe me large. I possibly owe you.’  _ Beca replied.

_ ‘Consider it our gift to you’ _  was all she got back from Aubrey.

She couldn’t wait for morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. I promise to work on my WIPs soon.


End file.
